Lose Our Minds Together
by Owl of Nevermore
Summary: Thinking of a life she was never part of, Ellie faces the two possibilities of what her life would have been like if Riley never came to visit her one last time. Military or fend for herself? [One-Shot, set during Chapter 2 of Survivor's Guilt]


This was going to be part of Chapter 2 of my story Survivor's Guilt, but I felt this held the plot back too much. The last part is just a cut/paste from the chapter, to show where it fits in. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Military or QZ?**

Listening to Joel talk was thought provoking. Mortgages, banks, and actually owning places but not at the same time, all of it was beyond her comprehension, but she listened and asked many questions when need be.

Ellie sank back into the seat, looking out the window watching the road whizz by. For a few moments, she watched her own reflection. Serenaded by the purr of the car engine. The eyes looking back her were not her own reflected. Soft and brown, eyes she hadn't seen in two years. Riley.

 _"Oh Riley, why did you have to join them?"_

"You know why." The words seem to come from outside her own head, but not in Joel's voice. In Riley's, as if the owner of the voice was sat beside her, whispering the words right into Ellie's ear.

Ellie understood the choice. Military or face the QZ. Tough choice to make. Spend days killing suspected infected, tracking down fireflies, or withholding food, in the military. Or the alternative. Just barely survive on her own. Two possible futures, neither she got to see just because a runner bit her.

 _Military or QZ?_

She saw it clearly in her mind, just about to turn sixteen. Someone from the military giving her a box to pack away some of the things. Just one box, that would have to do for all her important keepsakes, when she could just as easily keep them in her rucksack. Watched as she was allowed to chose only one set of clothes—those would be hers, and she would walk out in them. Anything "new" would require ration cards.

* * *

Ten years on the job, and she had the whole patrol thing down. The whole drill. Shoot anything that moves, as long as it isn't garbed in military armor. Infected, kill regardless of their attire. Simple. Rainy nights were the worst. Thick mist clinging like a cloak to the air. Mud and leaves sloshing under her firm military issue boots. The worst of her problems were a pair of smugglers, sneaking around like cockroaches. Always outsmarting her.

She stalked around a moldy old truck turned on its side. Something was out there. Ellie could hear it breath. Infected or human? In the mood she was in, she would shoot first regardless. Some arrogant dick was out to get her. Taking bribes himself, and passing the blame onto her. She had to take it out on someone. Maybe a little "friendly fire" would do some good, and if it was that fucker, all the better. Her compassion was the first thing that was snuffed out of her.

BANG! She fired the rifle as she turned the corner, and felt like her own stomach had exploded. Blood seeped through her armor, that far thinner than it should be, onto her gloved hand. The shooter hadn't fared any better. A pool of blood gushing out of her chest.

"Riley?" Ellie said, stunned.

"Ellie…" Riley croaked.

Both girls stumbled to the ground. The last thing they got to see in their life, was the face of the girl they never forgot, shrouded in the guilt that she was now dead, from a shot fired from their own gun.

* * *

Ellie rubbed her eyes with her balled up fists, so disturbed by such a thought, she wanted to cry or throw up. No, not military. Certainly not. Any life where she ended up killing Riley wasn't one she wanted to live.

She knew being in the QZ would keep her from Riley. Ellie would never see her again, never knowing if she was alive or dead.

Still…

* * *

Her rucksack weighed a ton, and she still wasn't finished filling it. Getting a job in the rations depot got her some dirty looks at first, and people yelling " _TRAITOR"_ at her. Then she was just a kid—okay, it was about a year ago, but now those fuckers had come to depend on her.

She pulled the list out of her pocket, checked it; canned potatoes. There was a pallet full of them on the other side of the storage. She knew this, because she had packed them up this morning. They were going to another zone. No one would notice two missing. A clocking off time, she had filled her rucksack to the brim, and she still received ration cards. Ellie was actually getting paid to steal. The military would just cherry pick, move the stuff around until no one noticed it was missing.

Ellie hitched up her backpack, headed out to the decaying dingy streets. Headed down an alleyway. At the end was a door to an apartment building. Most of the tenants were just people. On the top floor at the far end was the apartment belonging to her business partners. Before she could even touch the handle of the door, she heard the approaching footsteps of two people coming her way. Ellie turned. A man and a woman. Both of them were shitty people, but they paid well in cards for whatever she managed to steal.

"Hey Kid," said Tess. "Got more stuff for us?"

"I have," Ellie replied. "You got my cards?"

"Upstairs," Tess replied.

They made a deal; ten cards for the whole hoard. Ellie could have made five times that, if she sold them herself, but this was more convenient. Once she left the apartment, she climbed out the window onto the ledge, shimmied across until she reached the gutter pipe. Climbed up onto the rooftop. Made her way across the rooftops until she found her own attic hideaway. There was no one waiting for her, and there never will be.

* * *

"I think I would have chosen to fend for myself," Ellie decided.

"Is that so?" Joel replied, without a clue what she was getting at.

"Riley," Ellie elaborated. "The school gave her a choice; join the military or fend for yourself in the QZ. If I hadn't have gotten bitten, I think I would have picked fend for myself. I might have started working with you and Tess."

"I seriously doubt that kid. Me and Tess, we took our opportunities where we could get them. High risk, minimal team. Someone had to do it, might as well be us. Two screwed up people, who stopped giving a shit about people a long time ago, and would do anything to get a big payoff of ration cards. Tess was the brains, and I was the brawns to do a lot of the grunt work. Suited us fine."

A loud clunk noise coming from the engine told them their usage of the truck was over. There was no point attempting to fix it. It was abandoned, and they went on foot.


End file.
